<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Plucked Strings by shashashou</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26101804">Plucked Strings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/shashashou/pseuds/shashashou'>shashashou</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:41:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,066</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26101804</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/shashashou/pseuds/shashashou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>[Classical Violinist! Daishou x Electrical Guitarist! Kuroo]</p><p>Wherein all the rooms in the university are taken, and two very different musical genres and instruments are forced to share the same room.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daishou Suguru/Kuroo Tetsurou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Plucked Strings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Discipline. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no word more rooted in Daishou's system than it. As pale, obviously abused fingers pressed, and shook the strings, while his other hand swiftly guided the bow gracefully striking the notes- the chords exactly as he had intended, he was reminded once more of his principles. He wouldn't say a word;  he wouldn't give in; he wouldn't make a scene; he had much better self control than th-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Vrrraaaang!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The noise of the electric guitar suddenly pierced his ears, and all too soon his composure was peeled away. With gritted teeth, and a dramatic flair, he moved his violin away and off to the side to carefully put it on a nearby table. He held his bow, careful of the strings attached to it as he used it as some makeshift weapon against pretty boy wannabe rockstar who just had to share the same room as him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Could you," </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking,</span>
  </em>
  <span> "please turn the volume down?" He smiled fakely as he accentuated his words with a rough poke from his "wooden sword" that he hoped wouldn't break. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amused amber eyes met his and a crooked grin took shape, a tongue stuck out as the current bane of his existence spoke, "don't wanna."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Various methods of murder flashed before his very eyes, and Daishou had half a mind to take on his bluff. Bow brandished, ready to slay the fiendish being that was disrupting his violin practice, he took another deep breath to calm himself down. Opting once more to take the diplomatic route.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're being a distraction to my practice." He pulled his expensive stick back and held it threateningly in front of him; as if to convince the raven haired man to leave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ah, really?" There was no remorse whatsoever in the intruder's voice, in fact he even sounded pleased. The brightly coloured electrical and extremely loud instrument hung across his right shoulder, and the said arm raised to form what Daishou assumed to be the cringe worthy "rock on" sign. "Must be the rocker genes."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daishou couldn't believe it. The other man had the audacity to wink in his direction, but that wasn't what he hated. No, he despised how he found the dumb rocker sign, dorky words and even the sorry excuse for a wink atrociously cute. Left with no excuse, and more than just a little embarrassed at the direction his thoughts were heading he decided to leave and find some other place. "I give up, the room's yours."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Exasperated, he makes his way over to the table he placed his violin on, ready to leave until the guitarist speaks again. Voice a little higher, and a little rushed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I- ah, wait. You don't have to go."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A sleek eyebrow rose in question; Daishou momentarily stopped his movements. He looked straight at the golden eyed male, non-verbally asking if he was the one who would be leaving in his place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead of receiving an answer however, he got a meek response. A hand raised to scratch the back of his inky hair, as he pursed his lips as if he were trying to think. Another stupid grin took over his face as he flashed his pearly whites, “I didn’t get your name.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daishou blinked once, twice, he wasn’t hearing things right? Mr. Disaster Fashion, pierced ears “rocker” with a bedhead wanted his name? Feeling a little smug and more </span>
  <em>
    <span>bitchy</span>
  </em>
  <span> than usual, he opted to play dumb. Who was this man to think he could just get </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> name out of all people.</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>As one of the more notably successful violinists at his age, Suguru Daishou had every right to be proud, but wait- wait, </span><em><span>he</span></em><span> didn't </span><em><span>know</span></em> <em><span>him</span></em><span>?</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Uncultured fucking swine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An indignant huff left his lips, as he corrected his way of thinking. This man </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> have known his name, and- god fucking, asking for someone's name doesn't equate to asking for their number. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Get your head straight! Stop staring at the ridiculously attractive piece of shit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't wanna," he mused, throwing his words back at him. Finally returning to the task at hand, he gently placed his violin back in its case, followed by its bow. He picked up the sturdy, leather wrapped object, and made his way towards the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daishou looked back to leave a self-gratified remark for a final word and instantly regretted it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The source of his conflicting feelings was leaning against the table he previously left his violin on, and once again Daishou's mind had wandered into uncharted territory. The snug, tattered denim jeans was something he absolutely despised, coupled with the white shirt under a flannel. It was a typical sleaze boy outfit he would never be caught dead in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One side of the ravennete's lips tilted up into a strangely sexy smirk, but he couldn't go there. Daishou refused to think it was what he had just thought, and had to shake his head. He had to leave before he would be corrupted by the-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I was asking so I could be considerate, you know," wannabe rocker boy paused as his arms pushed himself off the table, "but I'm not opposed to following my last name."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Excuse me? What?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mrs. Kuroo." Daishou would have processed the whole information faster, and would have noticed that even </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> "Kuroo" found what he just said awkward and cringe worthy if he wasn't so flustered. The rapid beating of his heart was blocking out any rational thoughts he could and tried to muster. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm not a woman." Was the only comeback he was able to think of. The obvious short circulation of his brain was easily seen, and Kuroo's smirk turned into a whole wide grin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're not saying no?" The surprise was evident, and it only made it harder for Daishou to think straight. His expression was so fucking cute, and if the warmth on his neck and his cheeks were any indication, he was sure his pale skin was coloured darker than a crayon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm leaving!" He shouted louder than necessary, and his usual white button down was feeling increasingly suffocating, that he just yanked the door open, back into the hallways of their university. Without any warning whatsoever he slammed the door close and ran for dear life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Never in his nineteen years of living did Suguru Daishou feel like a silly teenage schoolgirl until this very moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck you Kuroo!</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>SCREM please excuse the lack of tags and everything while I try to understand how ao3 works. bare with this sad wannabe fic author.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>